


I'm a champion of the people who don't believe in champions

by concertconfetti



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: HABIT is not in that novel, Mentions of Murder, Viscera, assault on a woman, blod - Freeform, but this was fun, please bear with me, this is a character study for a novel i wrote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 06:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concertconfetti/pseuds/concertconfetti
Summary: Iris Hutcheson is gonna make it out of this fucking attic.





	I'm a champion of the people who don't believe in champions

**Author's Note:**

> This was a character study I wrote during NaNoWriMo because I was stuck and had nothing, so I wrote her against my favorite horror antagonist. I don't think I did him justice, but I did my best based on the series he appears in and my own theories about how he works. Also this is a first draft so. Anyway here it is and here it will stay.

Iris decides to live sometime between the time she’s thrown against the wall and when HABIT breaks her nose. She’s hunkered in the corner of the room she’s dubbed the “murder attic” for what feels like days now, staring at the weird creatures staring at her. They looked like people holding cameras from this distance, but they were creepy as fuck. 

“Are you ready to talk yet, Iris?” A low voice echos from a dark doorway. “Or are you going to waste my time again?” 

Iris keeps breathing - keep your body breathing, wasn’t that the challenge? - and lets the blood from her nose pool into her mouth.  _ That’s disgusting, and you’re going to get us killed.  _ The DRYAD protests in the back of her mind. 

‘ _ Do you have any better ideas? _ ’ Iris thinks back, and for the first time in a very long time, the DRYAD is silent. 

“You know, there’s part of me that respects this,” HABIT continues, gesturing widely. “Until I remember that it’s just sad. You can’t beat me, but you’ll throw your body into fighting anyway. What’s that accomplish? It’s not even fun.” He walks over to Iris and kneels in front of her. “In the end, every one of you dies.” 

Iris glares. By this point, she knows he’s going to continue - HABIT is a jabberjaw, for the most part, set in his belief that inhuman strength and knowledge of men will put him on top every time. It’s a sort of cockiness she saw with Bothwell, something he gained from Meliae - HABIT was built out of cockiness and sadism. 

“All I’m asking you to do is listen to me,” HABIT says. “I’m not such a bad guy, if you’re useful. And I wouldn’t have brought you here if you weren’t. Trust me, I have my pick of little girls to kill.” He laughs, reaching out and grabbing Iris by the neck. “Not talking, hmm? You sure about that? Nothing you want to --” 

Iris spits in his face - blood and viscera spraying from between her teeth. It’s near black, coagulated and full of mucus. HABIT closes his eyes and laughs, wiping some of the crap off his face and turning to the side. 

“Cute!” He says. “But not particularly ne---” 

Iris pile drives HABIT into the wall, ramming him like a push sled from her mma gym. The force isn’t even enough to really knock the wind out of him - he’s still laughing - but he hasn’t gripped her either, so Iris rolls out of range and sprints through the door. There is a window to her right, and weapons all over the small bedroom. 

There is a deep laughter behind her and Iris moves. An axe collides with the window and Iris claws her way through the glass. One of the camera….things grabs her leg and she twists her ankle out of it’s grip, slamming her foot into its chest. She rolls off the roof and swings herself down on the ground, running as hard and as fast as she can down the road she finds herself on. The world around her feels familiar - like the glade she found the DRYAD in - and she can feel the spirit taking over slowly as Iris’ human stamina starts to run out. 

_ My turn. _ They say, softly, almost as if she’s trying to lull Iris to sleep.  _ I’ll keep us safe.  _


End file.
